


Rise Again From Ashes

by Mr_DeBlob



Category: The Sexy Brutale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fluff, Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:35:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21846022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mr_DeBlob/pseuds/Mr_DeBlob
Summary: On a whim, Tequila returns to the site of the Sexy Brutale. There, she has a chance encounter that sets her on a path she reluctantly walks: one of determination.
Relationships: Greyson Grayson/Redd Rockridge, Tequila Belle/Willow Blue
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	Rise Again From Ashes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rydain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rydain/gifts).



Willow stood in front of the site where the Sexy Brutale once stood, contemplating the emptiness in front of her. It was… odd, to say the least.

She had returned to Britain on a request from a client searching for a specific artifact. Apparently he wanted something from one of the many castles that dotted the landscape, wanting something cursed by the ghost of an ancient knight or warrior who had roamed the land long ago. A rather simple request.

According to the map her client gave her, the ruins with the artifact happened to be within the same area as the Sexy Brutale once stood, a mere 20 kilometers separating them.

On a whim, she decided to see what was left after her adventure turned out to be much easier and quicker than she had anticipated, leaving her with a large amount of free time.

Evidently, it was nothing. The burnt ruins that once occupied the land had been cleared away months ago, leaving behind a wide open pasture of wild grass that had moved in. 

With her eyes closed, she began walking across the field, feeling the ground beneath her give surprisingly easily and taking in the sensation of the plants against her skin. She pictured the manor in her mind, still standing high and proud. Her mind naturally drifted towards some of the memorable times here as she walked through, blind as a bat.

Eleanor unveiling one of her new macabre masterpieces to hang in the manor, fascinating and unnerving every single person, living or dead, in the room.

Clay brawling with the unruly patrons of the casino, cheered on by the crowd as he brutalized his opponents with his legendary boxing skills.

Lucas, watching Willow intently as she returned with another mysterious artifact she sourced down with the help of her Second Sight, his eyes opening wide with fascination as she described the deep and dark stories that lay behind it.

With each step she took, one more memory popped up. None of them were particularly precious to her, nor were they even really that memorable. Only one memory held that honor. Instead, they were simply events of mundane extravagance, actions done everyday by the eccentric residents and guests of the manor. Things done with an elegant casualness and brushed off as simply the enigmatic ways of the lucky few who dared live within the Sexy Brutale.

At least, they were considered as such before the flames took them all away. Before the ash and smoke and sulfur smell-

She suddenly froze in place, her eyes wide open, trying to take in the scenery around her.

_ Stop it, Willow! Not the fire. Please! _

She pleaded with her mind to stop moving along its train of thought, to not make her remember the horror that still haunted her despite how much time had passed.

But suppressed thoughts run rampant when one finally loses control.

In an instant, she no longer stands in a verdant field, a gentle breeze blowing against her in reassurance. Instead, she’s running through the halls of the guest quarters, searching desperately for a path to Tequila’s room. 

All around her, the inferno draped itself over the walls, burning away the wallpaper and replacing it with its glowing red heat. The floor beneath her groaned against her weight as cinders fell from the ceiling. She should’ve been more careful, shouldn’t have been so stupid and headstrong as she always did when it came to matters of Tequila.

Yet she continued forward into the flames, knowing that on the nights after a day of performing, the singer spent time resting in her room, besides the fireplace.

Besides one of those damned exploding fireplaces.

Willow’s mind continued to spin around, throwing her further into the fires of the past of that horrid night. Her mental landscape continued to torture her with these tounges of flame, remnding her of the absolute awfulness, of the pain it forced her through, of the absolute agony when she finally found Tequila, unmoving and silent pinned beneath a pile of heavy, smoking rubble. 

Desperately, she ran towards her, ignoring the searing heat against her palms as she dug through the collapsed ceiling to reach her. But the more she dug, the more futile it felt, and the more smoke filled her lungs until she could barely breathe.

Slowly, the pain began to overtake her, until all Willow couldn’t manage to stand anymore and collapsed to the ground. Against the ashes strewn on the floor, she could feel her consciousness fading into darkness. Into blissful, dulling darkness as she contemplated Tequila’s face one last time… 

“Ms. Blue? Is that you? Is everything alright?”

An older voice, calm and reassuring, cut through her mind, and she suddenly felt the grass against her face and the gentle warmth of the sun cascading across her skin. The heat wasn’t choking or malevolent. It was simply… reassuring, constant and steady.

Once again, the voice called out to her, with much more concern than before.

“Willow! Please assure me that you are all right.” The sounds of another person moving through the field. “Otherwise I’ll be forced to call emergency services to assist you.” 

Slowly, she pushed herself off the ground and turned to face her new companion. A man she hadn’t seen in a long while.

“No need for that, Mr. Boone. I’m telling you, I am perfectly fine as I am.”

The priest looked nearly identical to the last time Willow ever recalled seeing the man at the Sexy Brutale. He still held that air of a man who had seen everything a person could be offered in a lifetime, a tired weariness on his face as if the pleasures of the world exhausted him.

“Are you quite certain about that? I’m not sure that a woman lying prone on the ground and trembling so heavily can describe herself as ‘perfectly fine.’.” He offered a hand to help pull her back up.

As her hand reached out, she could see it shaking ever so slightly before it firmly met the other hand’s grip.

“I promise you Lafcadio, I’m fine. Just a bit.. fatigued from this type of weather.”

“You do realize that a day like this in England is a miracle for us Britons, right, Ms. Blue?”

“Exactly why I’m so tired. You know how it is in the swamps. The only reason I could stand it here was because it reminded me of home: dark and dreary. Not to mention the abundance of spirits here.”

Lafcadio chuckled at that.

“I’m sure they’re quite a bit more salacious than the ones you’re used to. At least from the way you used to describe them to me.”

“Oh definitely. I never quite understood why this place attracted so many…  _ esprits excités _ .”

Lafcadio made a distinct look away from Willow at that statement. A very suspicious look away at that.

An eyebrow raised, she asked, “You have something you’d like to tell me, oh man of God?”

“I may have been quite lax in…” He cleared his throat abrasively. “Carnal matters, many years before I relinquished the place to Lucas.”

The man shot a quick and very serious look at her.

“Not that anyone else needs to know about that, Ms. Blue.”

All Willow could do at that point was laugh, harder than she expected herself to. This supposed man of God, so much of a player it invoked an absolute exodus of lustful spirits everywhere to gather at his estate. The image was a bit too much for her to keep straight-faced at.

Once she finally calmed down a bit, she turned to face Lafcadio, a smile on her face.

“You’re lucky I don’t slap you right now for bringing so many years of spiritual harassment onto the woman who frequented this absolute nightmare of a haunt.”

Though her voice had a cheerful tone, he could see a strike of anger- no, a tempest of anger- briefly flash across her face.

He should’ve been scared, as would any who would possibly face Willow’s wrath, but instead, he was simply relieved.

“I’m glad to see that your strength has come back since the incident. I was a bit worried for all of you after I got the news, but I must admit… I thought about you the most, especially when you headed back to America.”

“Me? Why would you worry about me?”

Willow was honestly confused by Lafcadio’s admittance of this. Sure, she was considered a friend of Lucas, and all of Lucas’ friends all got along with each other, collaborating as some of the most talented people in their field. But Willow always seemed to be the exception to that rule.

Certainly she got along well-enough when she had to with the others when it came to the annual Masquerade ball, but outside of that, she never really became friends to them.

Well, other than Tequila. But other than that, she never really interacted much with the others, and she knew she barely spoke with Lafcadio in the entirety of her company with Lucas. Not to mention, why would either of them ever get along with each other anyway? She was a woman who belonged to the arcane, while he was a man who dedicated himself to the divine. They were complete opposites.

_ And yet you’re getting along right now, aren’t you? _ her mind whispered to her.

_ He’s just being polite, like he would be to anyone, _ she answered back.

_ He admitted his more scandalous past to you, Willow. I think that goes beyond mere politeness. _

_ But only because I asked him about it! He wouldn't have answered otherwise…  _

_ People answer questions when you ask them, Willow. That’s how conversations work. _

_ They don’t have to, though! He might’ve just been feeling pressured that I- _

“...your hair suffered greatly in your tribulation,” Lafcadio finished.

Willow snapped out of her mind, and let out a small “Excuse me?”

Immediately, she felt her face flush at her question. She had tuned him out while she argued with herself, and not caught anything in the past thirty seconds.

“I’m so sorry about that, Mr. Boone. I just spaced out for a moment there. I didn’t mean to be so rude with-”

Lafcadio placed a gentle and reassuring hand on her shoulder, and gave a warm, paternal look to her. 

“No need to worry, Willow. It happens.”

His voice wasn’t angry, or upset. Just understanding.

With a brief moment to catch her breath, Willow responded, “I’m so sorry about- I mean… thank you for being so understanding.”

A bright smile appeared onto Lafcadio’s face.

“Of course I’d understand what it’s like to to accidently space out for a bit. You see how old I am, correct? I’ve lost track of where I am plenty of times, even while driving! Heh heh heh…”

He paused.

“Maybe I should hire a chauffeur so I don’t crash the car in one of those moments…”

“Perhaps that would be for the best,” Willow responded, a smile on her face. “Just so we get back on track, what was it you were saying before I had my own mini senior moment?”

“Ah yes… I was answering your question. I worried myself sick over you, mainly because of how… how can I say this without being indelicate… ghastly- yes ghastly- you looked while you recovered in the hospital. You looked like an extremely depressed puppy the whole time there, not to mention, your hair suffered greatly in your tribulation.”

He cast an appreciative look at her at that statement.

“I will say that you’ve worn that scar on your cheek remarkably well. Really sells your mysterious vibe even more. But honestly, I’m surprised you decide to keep- not to mention maintain- the hairstyle the nurses gave you in order to save your hair.”

Self-conscious, Willow instinctively reached for the locks of hair that hung by her side for many years, but as she still needed to remind herself, they weren’t there. Instead, she reached up higher, until the shape of her new bob brushed up against her fingers.

After the fire occurred, her precious hair sustained an ungodly amount of damage. Being floor-length, the blazes worked their infernal magic upon it. There were a number of times where it caught itself on some fallen pieces of furniture or timber, and she had to rip a huge number of strands into two in order to continue moving forward. 

By the time she had escaped, her hair looked like an uneven and horrid mess, with burnt and singed ends smoking with the bitter smell of the smoke. When she was finally released from the hospital and returned to her home in the South of the U.S., her hair had been cut short, chin-length and very thin.

After finding that her treks through the wilderness became significantly easier when her hair didn’t catch on every branch she encountered, she decided she quite liked this new style.

Of course, she kept the locks of hair with her belongings. She may not wear them anymore, but at the very least, she could use them as incense to ward off spirits! The amount of sage she used to darken her hair could help fuel a thousand exorcisms.

“I know it’s a bit different, but I figured with all the damage that the fire caused, why not try and make one of them a positive thing?”

Lafcadio gave an affirming nod to her. “Well-said. Personally, I believe that what nature has done here has made something more beautiful than that monstrosity we called a building ever could.”

The two of them stared across the wide-open plain, filled with the remnants of Eleanor’s prize plants which had evolved to take over the whole area. The uncontrolled and wild nature of the fauna felt more like Eleanor than anything she ever arranged in her garden.

Perhaps when no longer needed her uncle to help take care of her child and Lucas served his time in prison, the three of them could come here for a picnic among what grew out of their legacy.

“You better make sure Thanos doesn’t hear you say something like that. You know he poured his heart and soul into this place, right, Lafcadio?”

“Ah, he’s back in Russia. As long as I stay away from the entirety of that country, I should be fine. Though I think he’s recovered from the smoke enough to yell at me from across the world should he ever find out I said that.”

Willow chuckled with him, remembering how some of the others were doing when she last visited them. Then she realized it had been a long while since she actually went to see how all of them were doing. She’d spent the past year in the darkness of the swamps, removing herself from the glamourous trappings of luxury and simply focusing on finding more clients now that Lucas was gone. She had kept herself within the comfortable and familiar curiosities of America, far removed from anything to do with Lucas and his friends as possible.

She suddenly wanted to know more of how everyone’s pulled through these past few months, and with Lafcadio standing right here, when would be a better time to ask?

“How’s everyone else been doing while I’ve been away? I hadn’t really kept in touch with everyone else.”

A sparkle appeared in Lafcadio’s eyes. “Who would you like to hear about first?”

“Well, do you know if Redd’s finally recovered from the stunts he pulled that night? Last I recall, his injuries were especially brutal.” She shook her head. “Though I guess that’s to be expected when you literally break through the walls trying to find someone.”

“I wouldn’t say that Redd’s fully recovered, but at the very least, I can tell you that he’s doing much better than before. Despite the amount of burns he received on his upper body, he’s retained his skill with the piano. He’s been using it to maintain his fine motor skills, and Clay and Trinity have been taking good care of him at their home. Honestly, thank the Lord for Trinity’s senses. I don’t know if Clay would’ve made it out as well as he did without her to guide him through all the smoke.”

“I’m glad to know that they’re doing all right. I would hate to see Redd’s body give out on him after being pushed so hard.”

Well, Clay may be pushing him a bit further in the name of ‘physical rehabilitation’. He’s pushed him quite a number of times to try out boxing to keep up his strength.”

Willow smirked at that. “Yup, that sounds like him alright. Always wanting to get his baby brother to share the top of the pedestal with him.”

She thought for a bit more, than asked another, perhaps a bit too intimate, question to Lafcadio.

“How are Redd and Greyson getting along these days?”

A sly smile emerged onto the priest’s face at that.

“They’ve returned to their usual dynamic, though Greyson’s definitely been dropping by the Rockridge household much more, at least from what Trinity’s revealed to me. He’s claimed that it’s simply to consult Redd on how strong some of the new locks he’s devised are, but you know Greyson. Things have been going steadily along… ”

He paused, trying to draw in a bit more intrigue from Willow, until she finally asked what all good storytellers wish to hear.

“And?”

Lafcadio smiled to himself as he revealed the next bit of info.

“Greyson and Redd have had some ‘overnight’ consultations. Very long, loud ones according to Trinity.”

Willow smiled at that. Everyone in the Sexy Brutale knew of the unsteady and ‘ambiguous’ relationship the two of them had. It seemed like nothing would ever come of it before, at least at the rate it was going.

“I suppose that’s another one of those positive changes the fire brought about, huh?”

“Well. I wouldn’t say it’s a positive change for Trinity, that’s for sure!”

The two of them shared another moment of laughter until it quieted down once again. Then Lafcadio gained a contemplative expression on his face.

“I know as a priest I  _ should _ technically advise against relationships like that, shouldn’t I? I don’t believe I’m making much of a legacy for one anytime soon.” He let out a deep sigh. “But God does as He does and makes the people He makes. No way to change that, so why should anyone bother trying?”

“Yes… why bother trying?” Willow subdued herself at that. Thinking about Redd and Greyson always brought her a little bit of joy in her otherwise darker life, but there was another person she thought of at Lafcadio’s little bit of philosophy. Another memory that arose from her mind that Willow held tighter than anything else.

In the back of the smallest music room, she sat by herself. Nestled among the other guests, she waited patiently as Redd warmed up his already-deft fingers on the piano, preparing himself for the hour and a half of music that was to come. Though she ordered a drink from the bar, she left it untouched on the table. She never liked the taste of venom in her alcohol, and besides, she wanted to take in every sensation she could of the upcoming performance.

A door opened, and the hushed whispers of the room ceased as Tequila walked in and took to the stage. Stood in front of the microphone, she nodded towards him, and he began playing. The music the two of them made together was extraordinary, an almost spiritual experience that lifted up the hearts of whoever heard it. But while Willow could find herself enthralled by any of Tequila’s songs, there was one that never failed to move her. One that she hoped could be sung for her one day.

And as soon as she thought of that piece, it began.

_ I had no intention to fall, _

_ Or to lose my heart. _

_ Until you came along, with that _

_ Crystalline smile and now, _

_ I’m a fool for you. _

Though it was written for Lucas as a gift for Eleanor, the emotion and tenderness imbued into the song had no less impact upon Willow’s own heart. She could never tire of hearing Tequila’s smooth and calming voice sing those words straight into her heart.

“Thinking about her again, Willow?”

She suddenly snapped back out of her memory and faced Lafcadio, who had an appraising look on his face.

“W-what do you mean by that, Lafcadio?”

“You know perfectly well what I mean, Willow.” He let out a small laugh at the shocked expression on her face. “You’re not very good at hiding your feelings, you know that? Almost as bad as Redd at hiding them,  _ especially _ the tender ones.”

Willow felt a blush spreading across her face, and reached for her hair to try and hide it. Alas, it was chin-length.

“Why so red, Willow? This doesn’t help to preserve your mysterious air, you know that?”

“Please shut up, my good gentleman!”

The laughter he let out this time was deep and bellowing, his enraptured noise echoing across the field. Willow merely shrunk into herself ten times deeper.

Once the laughter stopped, Willow felt Lafcadio’s aged and weathered hand placed on her shoulder. The joyous look upon his face was replaced with gentle and serious expression, honest and earnest.

“You know you don’t have to avoid her, do you, Willow? I’m no idiot. You must know that Tequila’s staying with Clay and Trinity right now, on a break from her big comeback tour.”

She remained silent at that statement, turning away from him as he radiated an aura of reassurance.

Knowing he would receive no response from her, he began walking away, headed towards his car. But as he retreated, he spoke out into the air for anyone nearby to hear.

“When tragedy strikes, the best we can do is learn what we can from it and do things a little different from before. That’s a lesson we all must learn in life. Make sure that you don’t leave any lingering regrets behind. That is a fate worse than death.”

With the retreating sound of his vehicle, Willow stood alone in the grassy field. She reflected on his words, of the entirety of this conversation. Why was Lafcadio even here in the first place? He never explained that.

She never believed in things like divine intervention or fate, but if she did, she would certainly think of this moment as being orchestrated as part of a greater plan.

“Fine,” she answered to whatever supernatural force was listening. “I’ll go see her. Because  _ I  _ want to go and see her and talk to her and possibly…” She whispered this part. “Hold her hand and…” She spoke in a hush. “Maybe… kiss her.”

She then stamped off towards her car much more decidedly then she had spoken.

At the door to the guest room, Willow, nervously held a hand in front of it, intending to knock sometime in the next hour.

When she had arrived at Trinity’s doorstep, the sculptor wasted no time directing her where she wanted to go, guiding her all the way to the area in front of her room before leaving and whispering a “Good luck” into her ear.

Her way of reading people unnerved Willow quite a bit, even more than her most supernatural of spooky incidents.

But no, she resolved herself to follow through on what she told herself she would do. She didn’t fly across the ocean and drive across the country to just give up now. Granted, the nearest airport  _ was _ only half an hour away, and she might be able to just ask the hotel to send her belongings back to the US, and-

_ NO! _ she yelled at herself mentally.

_ You  _ will _ do this! You  _ will _ talk to Tequila! And you  _ will  _ tell her how you feel! _

She gulped, gave herself a moment to psych herself up, then gave a solitary, but firm, knock on the door.

Muted, she heard a voice with a distinct Southern accent call out.

“Just a moment, dear!”

Nervously, she stood in front, waiting as she heard the sound of fabric rustling, creaking footsteps against the hardwood floor, and the turn of a doorknob releasing the latch and allowing it to open.

As the door swung open, she saw Tequila standing there, looking virtually unchanged in the past year since she’d seen her. Her blonde hair hung in loose curls instead of her usual elaborate style, and her face had no alterations from makeup, but to Willow, she looked as beautiful as she always did from the day they met.

Willow could only stare as Tequila’s eyes lit up with joy and pulled into a tight hug. It took the black-haired woman a few moments to wrap her arms to reciprocate.

“Willow, sweetheart! It’s been too long since I’ve seen you last! I’m so happy that you’re here!”

“I’m… also happy that I’m here! And that I haven’t seen you in forever! I’m glad about that!”

_ What am I even saying? Pull yourself together, Willow! _

“I mean- I’m also happy to see you again after so long apart! I’ve been pretty busy back in the States.”

Tequila let out a sunshine-filled smile. “Haven’t all of us? Doesn’t matter if we all get trapped in a burning building or get into a plane crash; we’ll all keep doing what we love like cockroaches! Well, extremely proper, well-dressed, and considerate cockroaches anyway.”

She pulled by the hand Willow into her room and closed the door behind her.

“Please, take a seat, darlin’. We absolutely must get caught up with each other with what time we have right now. Oh, this is gonna be so excitin’!”

The two of them took a seat on the bed and turned to face each other. Willow slowly looked down at their hands. Tequila held her hand between both of hers, the sensation comforting and warm. 

_ Well. We’re holding hands now. That was quick. _

“Come on now, no need to be shy, Willow, look at me.” 

Gently, Tequila placed a hand under Willow’s chin and turned it up towards her. The medium was immediately arrested by the singer’s vibrant blue eyes, which stared straight into her own and seemed to be as deep as a canyon.

“Now, tell me what you’ve been up to these past few months.”

Willow could only stammer for a few moments before being finally learning to speak again.

“I’ve been mainly finding new clients back in the states. Ones who can make up for the loss of finances Lucas’s imprisonment.”

_ Wait, don’t bring him up! _

A sad smile drifted across Tequila’s face at that.

“It’s rather a shame, isn’t it? I know that he seriously hurt us, could’ve even killed us, with that little scheme of his, but I can’t stay mad at him for too long. He just wanted a better life for his family. For him and his child and… Eleanor.”

Emotions began flickering on Tequila’s face like channels on a malfunctioning radio, jumping between many of them without landing on a single dial.

Willow began flipping through her mind, trying to figure out a way to salvage the conversation when Tequila broke out of her trance.

“But we’re not here to talk about them, we’re here to talk about us, aren’t we?”

With a sigh of relief, she responded with a nod.

“So have you been traveling across the world again looking for all these mysterious creatures and curiosities like always?”

“Oh yes,” she responded. Finally, they were back in familiar territory! “Some of these clients have been quite ambitious and varied in where they’ve sent me. Pacific Isles, East Africa, Central Asia. Been to more new places in the past year than I have in the last decade. Benefits of diversifying your customers, I guess.”

“You’re real lucky to go all these exotiv locales, aren’t you? My tour’s just been doing the usual runs so far. Italy, France, New York. It’s nice to see these places after being cooped up for so long, but after a while, you get a bit bored, don’t you?”

Willow nodded along, showing that she was listening intently to her.

“I will say one thing, though. Even though the smoke ruined my pipes, I’ve been able to diversify my repertoire a lot more! No more hundred songs to demonstrate my Diamond Note since I can barely hit without straining. But the lower registers have been kind to me, and my fans are liking this new direction I’m taking.”

Willow’s look of shock stood clear on her face.

“Oh, guess you didn’t hear about my little singing issues. Yes, I’ve pretty much had to transpose all my music down much lower and throw out the songs that relied too much on it. But honestly, it was a novelty at best,I didn’t lose anything too important.”

But even though Tequila acted nonchalant about her lost ability, Willow still had a feeling of awfulness coating her, and a rising surge of anger began flooding, aimed directly at herself. 

“I mean, it was certainly hard adjusting those first few weeks, but that’s how everything is with singing. You gotta have growing pains to move forward.”

She knew why she was so furious. She had completely shut herself off from her friends… from Tequila. Rather than helping them through their own struggles and pain, she’d only focused on her own and avoided everyone to keep from feeling it. Tequila may be fine now, but what about back then? When she discovered she’d lost her trademark, a key part of her career? She must’ve felt awful, even worse than Willow did now. Willow didn’t deserve to love someone like her, someone who could bear the pains life threw her way with a smile and a wave of her hand.

“I’m sorry for bothering you, Tequila. I shouldn’t have dredged up all this old stuff for you. I’m just bringing back bad memories.”

Swiftly, Willow stood from the bed and headed to the door.

“Willow, wait!”

“No, you don’t need me here to be with you. You’re perfectly capable of living without me. I’m not someone you deserve to have around, dragging you down to my pitiful state.”

“Willow, you don’t need to do this!”

“Yes I do!” She turned on her heel back towards Tequila. “Everyone else has been able to move one with their lives, to just keep on going forward no matter what happens. Meanwhile, I’ve been stuck stagnating in the swamps, stuck around the same old morbid curiosities I’ve been around my whole life. I don’t want you to get stuck in the past like I am, so please, just let me-”

She didn’t get to finish her sentence as she felt a soft kiss against her mouth, swift and brief, but filled with bright emotion in those few seconds their lips touched.

Willow could only stand ice-still as Tequila stared at her, holding her by the shoulders.

“You… you kiss… kissed me?” Willow stammered.

“Of course I did. Was the only way I could get you stop talking all this nonsense about yourself.”

“So you… like me?”

“Of course I do, dummy! I don’t go around kissing people just to get them to shut up! I kiss them because I like them.” A blush began creeping across her face. “So obviously, I like you. And it was the quickest way to get this confession over with.”

Willow sagged against the door and slid gently down, literally floored by what just happened.

“How’d you know I came here to…?”

“You know, Lafcadio called up Trinity earlier. Told us that you would be visiting today, and that you wanted to see me, specifically.”

“But that doesn’t mean…”

“Really, Willow? A year of radio silence from you, then suddenly you show up at the doorstep of the house where you know I’m staying, and you start stammering and blushing the moment I pull you in for a hug. It was obvious you were trying to confess.”

Tequila reached down and picked Willow up off her feet, letting her stand. Willow processed the entirety of what happened in ten seconds.

She then spoke quietly. “Thank you for speeding this up and making it so much easier, Tequila.” Willow threw herself around Tequila, happy and beginning to tear up. “Words won’t be enough to express how much I love you at this moment. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Tequila let a relaxed smile spread across her face as she hugged even harder into the embrace.

“If words won’t be enough to help express it, why don’t you sing a little something for me? Music’s the best way to bare your soul.”

“Sing something?! What could I possibly-”

“I know you have that favorite song of yours, the one you made sure to never miss a performance of. I’m sure you have the lyrics scribed on your heart. Go on, sing it for me.”

“Will you promise to sing it back?”

“I’m the Southern Siren, Willow. I’ll sing whatever my queen of the swamps wants.”


End file.
